


Crystalline Eyes

by aralliya



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Happy Ending?, I just wanted to write about Prompto, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Pining Prompto, Poor Prompto, Promptis Fluff, Prompto has Anxiety, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Burn, Spoilers from the get go, Tags to be added, character analysis thing, chocobros are supportive, falling quickly, noctis is kind, noctis is supportive, not sure yet - Freeform, prompto is in love, prompto is so gay, so much, takes place from the anime to end game, very slow burn, you are not safe if you haven't played the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aralliya/pseuds/aralliya
Summary: One would think that seeing through a crystal would be clear, simple and easy. But there are so many surfaces to a crystal that the sight on the other side may become warped and changed. Prom sees his prince his entire life through these surfaces, pieces of crystal that never quite matched. Until he finds the perfect view, sees Noctis so clearly and understands just the way he feels. But if Noctis looked through from the other side of the crystal, with all those surfaces and warped images, would he see the same?Alternately, Prompto has been crushing on Noctis since they were kids. But Noct already has a future layed out for him. Prompto has to figure out where that leaves him, and their relationship as friends.Starts in the brotherhood anime - until the end of ffxv. (But which ending?)





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey!!
> 
> Alright!  
> Quick shout out to my lovely beta's for editing and putting up with me through the process of this fic. Butterbeer you are a gem, and Dilpikel you rock my socks.  
>    
> small little warning in case I didn't make it completely clear:  
> This fic is going to deal with events from the anime up until the very end of the game.  
> If you have yet to play to the ending of the game, you are not safe from spoilers!!
> 
>  
> 
> Without further ado, I really hope you enjoy~

**i.**

 

 

 

When the bell rings, the first thing Prompto can do is let out a sigh of relief. He rises to his feet with the rest of his class, bowing towards their teacher to mark the end of his final day of elementary school. There is still a ceremony to go through, still goodbyes to say and forms to fill, but he’s finished. As his head falls forward, he catches a faint glimmer of red tucked into his desk and a smile stretches across his lips. While he straightens again, the class is dismissed with a laugh and a wave from their teacher. Prompto reaches in his desk, pulling out his red Canon digital camera.

As the class clears out, he plops back down in his seat, making the desk shake a little as the edge catches on his stomach. He ignores it, turning his attention to the small device flickering to life in his hands. It’s filled with memories, different views of different moments Prompto never wants to forget. And today, his last day before moving to a new school and new grade, he decides he wants to move on too. He flicks to the gallery, adding a star beside the few he thinks are worthy to be kept, before deleting everything else. Every nameless face of passerby's on the street, every event at his school he wished he had the confidence to be a part of, every attempt to regulate some sort of healthy diet before failing. He keeps a picture overlooking Insomnia, taken from a rooftop of a tourist building, only a few blocks away from the Citadel. He keeps it because he thinks it's beautiful, thinks it's exciting, thinks the Citadel is where he wants to be someday.

Prompto shakes his head, dismissing the thought just as quick as it enters his mind. The Citadel was for royalty, something Prompto surely was not. Maybe someday he could scrounge enough money together to go on a tour, but that was all. He could step foot inside, but he would never belong within such a grand place. The rest of the pictures are not unlike this one. Ranging from portraits and photoscapes, capturing the daily life within the crown city, or the great flashy barrier that protects it. Prompto decides that if he’s ever to become a professional, he’d do well to keep these ones, showing that he’s been talented since the beginning.

With a click of his tongue, he puts the camera to sleep, gathering his things into his red school bag and preparing himself to step out in the late afternoon air. He allows his steps to take him away from the classroom and the loud, rowdy children inside.

A fresh start. And Prompto hopes he won’t spend this new life alone.

 

-

 

It’s lunch of his first day at his new school, he’s already taken too many photos to count, found the best lighting and the best angles for the scenic views, but he still hasn’t made any friends. He sighs as he sinks a little lower in his chair. He flicks through the photos and cringing at the ones he thinks are a little to shaky, the ones where the lighting is just off, the aperture could be raised to make things clearer. Eventually he finds one he’d taken from his own home that morning and sighs. He stands with the camera at his side, in nothing but his sleep clothes and glasses. It’s in pictures like these that Prompto feels insecure and determined at the same time. He’s uncomfortable with his weight and the way he looks. He knows the only way he can fix it is through exercise and changing his diet, but habits are hard to break when you are doing it alone.

Another student is knocked against his desk, and it startles the camera right out of Prompto’s hands. The red metal clatters to the floor, display screen face down, and Prompto looks up to meet startled brown eyes.

“S-Sorry!” The boy says, picking up the camera and setting it back on the blond’s desk, before turning back to his friends.

Prompto grabs at it, allowing his heart to calm down while he checks for scratches or dents. As much as he wants to make friends, he finds it difficult to approach a person and try. He’s noticed over time that people tend to shy away from him because of his looks, but a lot of the time when he hears the other boys talking about the different games and shows they’d watched on their weekends, Prompto feels himself itching to join in. To give his opinion and ask what their thoughts were. But he is shy, and he is nervous and afraid.

His camera is undamaged, and he lets a lump of apprehension leave his throat when he sees it. But there is dust and dirt stuck to the screen, and he’s afraid to scratch the screen wiping it away. Instead, he rises from his chair (the desk shakes and he pretends not to wince at the scrap of his stomach against the chipped wood- it hurts) and makes for the hallway. He’d noticed a water fountain just around the corner, and hopes he can get the grainy edges out from inside the casing. He’s leaving the classroom when a rush of girls clatter down the hallway, joining a larger group in a rush. They’re all laughing, smiling and blushing.

Now, normally this would never be an issue. Prompto usually tried to ignore girls- they were loud and annoying and shallow, and it’s not like they had ever given him a second look. He’d usually carry on past them, going in a different direction just to avoid even the slightest bit of confrontation. But this was different. Prompto’s homeroom classroom was at the end of the hallway, and the water fountain was right behind the swarm. He’d have to go through them if wanted to clean his camera. He stands, watching girls from his own class squeeze past him to join in, and thinks about his options. He could give up, turn and plop himself right back in his desk and hope that whatever the commotion was would clear up by the end of the day. Or, he could stay to the side and try and push his way through, and come back with a potentially unscratched camera and go on with his day. Prompto leans more towards the former, but his love for his camera has him steeling himself for the latter option. Taking a breath, he takes a few faltering steps before racing towards the windows on the other side of the hallway.

He’s doing fine, even sees a clear path along the side of the group the girls make, and he’s doing a good job ignoring the jostling and the bumping he’s getting. But he can’t ignore the words spoken around him, “Prince Noctis! How many servants do you have?”

“Prince Noctis! How much do you get to eat in the palace?”

“How big is your room?”

“How expensive are your clothes?”

He moves far enough that he’s behind the crowd, and can see clearly into the centre. The Prince wears all black; a simple shirt over simple black shorts. He stands with his hand in his pocket, head downcast, so Prompto can’t really see his face, but there’s a quick misbeat of his heart and he has to look away. His heart is pounding, beating so loud he can hear it in his ears, can feel the colour rushing up to his face and tinting the entire thing red. He shakes the feelings away, and focuses on the water fountain only steps away.

He takes out the handkerchief he still keeps in his pocket from when he first left Niflheim and wets an edge in the water, using the dry edge to brush of the dust and debris on the display before lightly scrubbing away anything left over. When he’s finished, and the screen is shiny and free of scratches, he smiles. The bell rings, and as he turns to make his way back towards his class he sees the pack of girls sighing and heading away, clearing the way for Prompto to make his way without any altercations. His gaze falls back towards his camera; there is still a thin layer of dust sitting on the buttons, so he brushes it away with his fingers. When he looks up again, he’s met with downcast, blue eyes, shrouded under black bangs and long curled eyelashes. He feels the pressure in his chest return when Prince Noctis’ eyes shift to meet his, and realizes that he’s not walking anymore, just standing frozen in front of the young prince. He stares at him, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks and the heat radiate from them. Noctis’ eyes flash with something, and the frown he was wearing previously stutters into something of a muted smile, lifting his head to fully look at the blond.

“Sorry,” He says, and steps around Prompto, and the latter is frozen. Doesn’t make a move when the prince steps around him, doesn’t stutter a reply when he stops slightly, seeing if he would get one. Prompto watches in frozen fear as the prince’s mouth twists again into a frown and starts off down the hall for another classroom. It’s not until the final bell rings that Prompto realizes that he’s still frozen, standing alone in the hallway.

He shakes himself and heads back inside the room, his heart pounding and breath shaky. As he sits his mind is foggy, and he has to take a second to right himself. He closes his eyes as their teacher starts her lesson, feeling his heart slow and his breath calm again. Darkened blue eyes and a small attempt at a smile engraved to the back of his eye lids.

 

-

 

He starts to see the prince more often, whether or not he means to, his eyes seem to seek him out in crowds, in hallways, on his walk home. Prompto finds him -more often that not- alone, sitting in the shadow of the equipment room. But the blond’s almost positive that the building is off limits to students at lunch hours. He watches him, from the safety of his classroom, clear windows blocking out the spring air. The prince is huddled against the corner, small boxed lunch balanced on his thighs and legs tucked underneath him. There is a slight breeze and his hair ruffles; his hand lifts to brush his bangs on his forehead where they stop just above his eyes. Prompto can see from his distance the small frown on his lips when he picks up something green from his box and flicks it towards the grass. Watches Noctis watch a squirrel chase after it.

If anything, Prompto thinks he’s lonely.

  


He’s leaving his favourite fast food restaurant on his way home. It’s early spring and there’s only a month of school left, and the blond hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still alone, he hasn’t made any friends, and he’s still eating fast food. He sighs and kicks a rock, disappointed in his current progress. Being alone doesn’t bother him as much as he wished it did. The blond had secrets, and he felt it better to be alone lest they be revealed. But when he sees the other kids in his class, sees them laughing, he almost wishes he was like them too. He wishes there was someone he could tell the truth too, someone he could be himself with and not worry about judgmental gazes, or stinging words. The blond reaches down into his pocket, pulls out his camera and turns it on, the display screen lighting up when he opens his gallery.

The pictures he’d taken at school flash by him as he scrolls to the very beginning, looking for the pictures he’d taken earlier in the year. There’s pictures of the school building, pictures of their baseball team mid-game, volleyball players in ready position, pictures of the prince alone in the background. Prompto freezes, seeing just how many unintentional pictures of the raven he had collected. In one he sits alone by the equipment room. In another sitting beneath a tree in it’s shade. Another he is buying something from the vending machine just across from his classroom. The final one has the Prince sitting on a bench with a green coloured book sitting on his lap. What Prompto notices first, is the smile stretched across his lips as he looks inside. Prompto stares at him on the small display screen, traces the thin line of his brow with his eyes, the curve of his jaw and the barely there smile painted onto his lips. He thinks the prince is beautiful,  he ponders, if a boy can be.

He’s shaken from his trance when he hears some shuffling and a yelp, and his eyes flicker to the sides searching for the source of the noise. There is a small white puppy, limping along the side of the road, and Prompto can see from his distance the gash across the dog's back leg. Stuffing his camera into the pocket on his shorts, he races forward, dropping heavily beside the injured dog. In the same motion, he’s brought his hand forward for the dog to sniff, and reaches into his pocket to pull out the handkerchief to quickly press to the wound. He’s surprised to how easily the dog allows him to touch him, allows him to tie the cloth around the wound to stop the bleeding. Surprised by the lack of resistance when he scoops the dog up and jogs -with breaks- the rest of the way home.

 

-

 

Over the next few days of taking care of Tiny, (Prompto thought the name fit the white canine perfectly) he’d established a routine: Wake up, check Tiny’s food and water; head to school, sit in the back and lightly pay attention, take some pictures on his break, stare at the prince; head home, take some pictures on the way, stop and get some dinner, play with Tiny, check and change the bandage over the dog's injuries, head to bed. It was nice to have something to come home too, nice to have something waiting for him when he enters the dimly lit room at the end of the day. He’s so use to being alone, to the silence ringing loud in his ears as he steps inside the small flat. But now when he enters, he hears small paws rap against the wooden floor boards and all but feels the bark Tiny lets out when he rounds the corner and greets him. Prompto forgets who he is, forgets what he's not, and he’s happy.

He sits in the entryway, slipping on his shoes while Tiny wags his tail beside him, seeing him off. He’s better now, he's no longer staggering and limping, keeping his weight off his back paw. The handkerchief still remains -washed daily- keeping the puppy from picking at the wound. Prompto turns to give the dog a quick pat on the head, watching Tiny’s tail wag quickly while he does so.

He stands, throwing a quick goodbye over his shoulder and heading out the door. He walks quickly, excited to come home again at the end of the day. The sky’s a dull gray, hinting at a dusting of rain coming Insomnia’s way. When he finds himself walking across a bridge only a block from his school, he decides to take some pictures. The lighting is perfect and the already damp grass glistens just right in the sun. He sets his bag down gently at the foot of the red railing and takes in the morning sky. The air feels slightly damp from the rain likely to fall, but it’s cool and Prompto feels comfortable in this setting. It’s quiet, the sound of cars and city life distant in the background, the sky still pink with a rising sun peeking through the four towers of the Citadel. He raises the camera to his eye, pressing it close and taking a few shots, changing the shutter speed a few times until it’s just right, and the birds flying above are as clear as the sky. He smiles, the pictures coming out wonderful.

It’s not until after he’s taken a few more photos from a few other directions and spots that he realizes he’s late, spent too much time basking in the morning and forgetting about why he left his home in the first place. Quickly gathering his belongings he rushes to school, getting to the front of it just as the gates close and the first bell goes off.

He sighs, realizes he won’t be getting in the school until lunch break when the gates open again. There is a sudden rush of calm that washes over him, takes his hand and leads him from the adrenaline he’d been experiencing before, and pushes him straight into the anxiety that comes with missing class. He sighs, thinks about all the things in class that he’s missing, in the classes he knows he’s weakest in, how much worse he’ll become. He runs a hand  through his hair, down his face and feels the sweat on his forehead from the over exerted state he’d pushed his body to. Lunch doesn’t start for another three hours, his watch tells him. So he waits, back against the wall and camera in hand.

 

When the bell finally rings, he’s immediately to his feet, ready to rush into class and apologize to his teachers until the agree to give him the notes he had missed that morning. He brushes off his shorts, the camera quickly (gently) shoved inside his pocket before he rushes inside; Zig-zagging through the rush of teenagers on their way to lunch. Once he's up on the third floor, breath rushed and heart pounding, he puts his hand on the railing and takes a small rest. His eyes flicker up, looking out the window at the students mingling about on their lunch.

He watches as a boy runs, jumps, and catches a frisbee, laughter tumbling from his mouth and infecting the people who had thrown it. Watches as a group of girls laugh as they watch, calling out to the catcher and laughing again as he throws the frisbee and misses, and the previous thrower has to dive to catch it. Watches at how _easily_ they get along, sees how different he is from them. Prompto pulls out his camera, snapping a picture of the view outside.

Maybe it's because it’s automatic to look for him now, or because he's come to understand where the Prince likes to spend his school breaks, but his eyes fall directly onto a dark black head, the strands standing in all directions, frizzy and slightly unkempt. He sits in the shade of a cherry tree the thick trunk blocking him from the view of the rest of the students, and the blond can’t help but think he looks to be sheltering himself. Putting space between himself and the rest of the world. Prompto couldn’t fault him for that, wanting to be alone in such a crowded place. The prince had been born with a heavy burden on his shoulders, and while most would think the prince’s want for personal space to be selfish and unkind, Prompto understood. There’s  a green book in his lap, pen in his right hand, and Prompto thinks he might see a dog there as well. He watches him, reading over the lines in the book before moving to write underneath it, and the blond almost thinks he’s replying to the words scrawled above. The Prince is quick in his writing, and Prompto sees a bit of the smile he was to afraid to return that first day. It’s when he finds himself tracing the curve of his lips that he breaks his eyes away, looking again at the frisbee group of students, now resting on a bench.

His face is red, and he can feel it burning across his ears and all the way to the back of his neck. He can’t understand why the Prince draws him in so much, can’t understand why his eyes look for him during the lunch hours, why he’s come to memorize the shape of his face and the curve of his lips.

A loud bang startles Prompto enough that he almost drops his camera, and the laughter that follows directs Prompto to the student who had clumsily fallen down the stairs and shook him from his thoughts. Once the student has picked himself up and proved he was okay, Prompto turns back towards the window, seeing that the Prince had disappeared from his spot hidden behind the tree. With a sigh, the blond heads back up the stairs, coming back to himself and remembering why he was rushing in the first place.

He can’t help looking around for a flash of blue-black hair for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story will be put into 15 parts (can u guess why ah HAH) so please stick around until the end :)
> 
> hmu on snap @ aralliya  
> (I still don't know how to use tumblr)
> 
> please  
> I love friendship


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m using the japanese school system for these kids, so his first year in middle school is grade 7 and then it goes all the way to nine so three years in middle school in total. I couldn’t find any clear indication of their ages during this time of their life so I am taking that as a ‘do whatever you want’ so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> The entire second half of this chapter was written to Sephiroth’s theme. I was trying to scare myself enough to finish it. That songs gives me chILLs everytime.
> 
> Once again, thank you to my lovely Butterbeer! I'm sorry I brought you into this and I'm happy you still love me :3
> 
> See more at the end!
> 
> please enjoy !

**ii.**

  
  
  
  


When he gets home, he notices a green envelope sticking out of his mail box. It was unusual for the blonde to get mail, and if he did, it would never be in an envelope as nice as this one was. As he walks inside, he stares at the envelope in his hands; the fancy script his name is written in, the address of somewhere he assumes is far away, is unfamiliar. There’s an inkling of worry creeping inside him, afraid that after all these years, he’s finally been found. After he’s gone inside and kicked off his shoes, he blinks. The house is quiet. The usual patter of small paws against his hardwood floor is gone, and Prompto starts to panic. He checks the house, the doors and windows to see if anything had been left open, checks around the neighborhood and up and down the streets, but Tiny is gone, and Prompto is alone all over again.

When he heads back inside after his search, his apartment seams huge. The only noise to be heard is the drip of the tap, the seal having been broken since he’d moved in. He sits there silently, leaning against his front door and  listening to the rhythmic splash or each drop as they hit the sinks bottom. Eventually, when his legs have fallen asleep and his back hurts, he stands and hears the shuffle of the forgotten envelope in his pocket. Moving towards his kitchen table, he flicks on the light and sits, his back thanking him for a soft surface and legs tingling when he moves them. He doesn’t like the quiet now that he’s used to the the small tap of paws as background noise and he doesn’t like the lack of energy he finds himself having.  He feels almost uncomfortable. Like his voice is too loud for the still, cold apartment . The letter catches his eye from where he’s placed it down on the table, and he’s suddenly dreading opening it. Which is worse, he thinks, losing his first real friend and companion, or the kingdom realizing that their enemy had been sitting right among them the entire time?

The letter is simple when he opens it and the scent of sylleblossom floats lightly through the air. Prompto finds it reassuring and it calms his nerves as he unfolds the paper to read the contents inside.

 

-

 

In the back of his mind, he knew his happiness with the small dog wouldn't last. And like the few fleeting happy moments he had been gifted through his life, they faded, passed, until they were nothing more than a memory. But inside the letter, he had been given another chance. And while he may have lost the company of the small animal for good, there was still a chance to see him again.

Inside the letter, Lunafreya had thanked him. Told him that Pryna, Tiny’s real name, had returned home safely carrying with it the handkerchief Prompto had kept on the canine. Using that, she was able to track him down to say thank you. While this by itself had completely blown Prompto away, he felt almost lucky, felt gifted that someone of such importance would acknowledge him when all he did was take in a stray dog. Near the end of the letter, she had written a request for the blond, asking him to take care of someone she held close and dear.

Prompto thought he was dreaming, the entire situation feeling unreal and unreasonable and impossible for someone like him.

In neat cursive and pretty blue ink, she writes:  _ Do you happen to know Prince Noctis? _

 

On the very last day of his first year, Prompto makes a decision. Lunafreya had asked the blond to befriend the raven, explaining how the two were actually quite close, and she wished that she wasn’t the only person who was close to him.  He was excited when he had read the letter, fifteen days ago, and while the new found silence in his home didn’t bother him, he still felt lonely. The more he found out about the prince through the people at his school, the more he came to understand him, the more he wanted to learn. Maybe it was the status that attracted the rest of the world, but Prompto wanted to see who this boy was, stripped of all the fancy titles and riches.

So he decided to accept the task, and his new goal was to approach the prince before the end of the school year. While making this decision had been easy, he had made no progress since the fifteen days prior to deciding it.

Once again, he’s asked to rise to their teacher, the class being led by their class representative - a small, black haired girl Prompto knew to be one of Noctis’ biggest fans. Once again, he sees the glint of red just inside his desk. Without waiting, he reaches inside and claps the camera in his hand. When the class bows, saying one final thank you to their teacher for the year, he turns the camera on, the loud voices of his classmates drowning out the chime of the camera turning on. He holds the camera in his hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting to him. As everyone sits down, he’s quick to pack his things and rush out the door. He’s slightly out of breath by the time he rounds the first corner, but he presses on. If he wants to befriend the prince, that would involve talking to him, and that would mean catching him before he made it home. Prompto knows there is black car waiting for him everyday at the front of the school, and Noctis doesn’t waste anytime leaving the school building and getting into it.

He slips his way past a few students loitering on the stairs, almost tripping over his feet as he nears the final staircase leading to the school foyer. When he rounds the corner, passing the shoe lockers and cheering students, he slows to a walk, his breath coming out in shallow pants. He bends forward, hands resting on his knees, gasping for breath. He can feel his glasses sliding, sweat pulling them down his nose. Standing, Prompto watches as the Prince walks to the curb, black car and sandy blond haired boy waiting by the door.

The blond sighs in defeat, watching Noctis near the car. He feels his fists tighten, irritated and frustrated with himself for not reaching the prince in time. The familiar feel of the plastic encasing his camera comes to mind, and his grip is quick to loosen. He looks down, the camera's screen damp and imprinted with the sweat from his hand. He doesn’t think, only pulls the camera up to his eye, watching as the prince nods politely when the door is opened for him, watches as the raven turns, capturing the photo when his eyes meet Prompto’s through the camera lens.

The raven is quick to enter the car after that, and the blond stands frozen, watches the car drive away and towards the Citadel.

When Prompto looks at the photo later that night, he sees the Prince smiling.

  
  


-

 

Now in his second year of middle school, Prompto is more determined than ever to befriend the prince. He had begged the stars to allow the two to be in the same class, only to have their classes as far from each other as possible. Disheartened, Prompto gave up on his quest. Now, halfway through his second year (and having not made any progress at all) he expects the little flips his heart makes when he see’s the prince to have all but disappeared. Sadly, they haven’t.

It’s his sections turn to clean the classroom after school, and his job was to mop the floors. While the other two students helping him had already packed their things and headed home, Prompto had volunteered to rinse out the bucket and mop. It’s heavy, and Prompto has to take constant breaks while on his way to the drain in the washroom but when he finally gets inside, he drags the bucket the rest of the way. While he is catching his breath, he hears movement behind him. Too tired to look, he agrees with the assumption that it’s another student cleaning their bucket from their classroom cleaning. He coughs a little, covering his mouth and turning towards the paper towels on the side of the sinks. His eyes catch a flash of black, and the little stutter his heart does almost makes him drop the bucket all the way to the floor.

There is a rush of movement beside him, and Prompto watches as Prince Noctis pours out his own bucket into the sink, watching the brown water slowly swirl before falling down the drain. The blond is shocked, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Noctis holds the bucket with ease, his eyes distant and distracted. Prompto isn’t sure how long he stared for, but eventually the Prince looks to him from the corner of his eye, before turning to face the other completely. They hold eye contact for only a moment, but when it happens, time stands still.

Prince Noctis’ eyes are blue, that much he had known. But this close, standing next to the prince and starting directly into them, he’s stunned at the beauty of them. They’re a deep blue, as captivating as the night sky he’s named for. Flakes of white scattered throughout the iris make Prompto think of the crystal, jagged, sharp and glistening in the light. His nose is sharp and elegant, his eyelashes long and curled. 

While it was only a passing thought a year earlier,  Prompto comes to a conclusion: Noctis  _ is _ beautiful.

The moment is broken when Prompto’s eyes fall to the prince's lips, tracing them with his eyes. Noctis looks away, down at the bucket now finished draining. He turns the tap on and rinses the bucket out, while Prompto occupies himself with lifting his own bucket. It’s still heavy, and the blond feels his cheeks heat up when he thinks of how easy the other boy had lifted the pail. He struggles for a moment, lifting the bucket just enough for the lip to catch on the rim of the sink. He rests it there a moment, letting his arms rest before he tries again.

“Do you need help?” Noctis asks, startling Prompto enough to jostle the bucket from the ledge. He panics as it falls, dirty water splashing out of the rim and onto his shirt, and on the princes. Noctis reaches forwards, grabbing the bucket before it can crash to the ground.

“I am so sorry!” Prompto stutters out, taking a step back and allowing the prince to take on the full weight of the now half empty bucket. He grabs for the paper towel, rushing forward to brush the water of the princes shirt, “I’ll try and get some of it out!”

Noctis tips the bucket into the sink with one hand, the other batting away Prompto’s hands. “It’s alright, it’s just some water.”

“Are you sure? I can get some more paper towels!” Prompto turns away again, reaching to grab more and throwing the wet and dirty ones away. He’s stopped halfway, when Noctis grabs his wrist, pulling it away from the towel dispenser and back toward the sink.

“It’s just water,” he repeats, “I’ll be fine. Why don’t you worry about cleaning yourself up. I think you got I little more on yourself than me.”

Prompto sputters, eyes flashing down to his own soaked through shirt. He starts to dab at it, trying to dry it quickly and efficiently. He stops, hearing a small chuckle from the boy in front of him. When he looks up, Noctis is laughing, hand covering his mouth and eyes averted away from him. The way he looks with his eyes squinted shut and his fist curled in front of his smile, encourages a smile to spread across Prompto’s lips. Noctis’s laugh was clear and bright, it makes the already restless butterflies inside Prompto rush around some more. They laugh together quietly, holding eachothers buckets and with soaking wet shirts. When they both calm down, Noctis being the first to do so, they stand in silence, a smile still present on either of their faces.

Eventually, the moment is broken when Noctis looks away, towards the empty bucket in Promptos arms. He scratches his head and reaches for it, smiling at the blonde as he sets Prompto’s own bucket down on the ground. 

When there is no longer a reason to stay, both buckets empty and cleaned out, Noctis turns on his heel, sending the blond a nod, “See you around.”

The prince leaves and Prompto watches as the door swings shut behind him. Like a string being snapped, Prompto falls forward, palms catching on the corner of the sink to support himself. The entire time, his heart had been pounding, palms sweating and nerves vibrating throughout his body. But he’s happy, thinking about how he had been the one to make the Prince laugh. His smile widens, thinking about how much he wants to hear that laugh again, to be the reason it rings clear and undisturbed into the air. When he thinks about it more, he realizes that he’d never heard the prince laugh before. Not in the many passings of the other in the school halls, not when he’d get inside his black car at the end of the day, and not during class when the blond would happen to be passing his class room.

He’d heard the other boys talking, once the hype of the prince attending the school had died down. Heard how they had called him unsociable and cold. But Prom didn’t believe that, and now that he had been so close to the other, he was determined to prove them wrong. With his newfound determination, Prompto stands from the sink, brushing off his damp shirt and picking up the bucket, heading back to class with a spring in his step.

 

-

 

It’s a week later when he finally sees the prince again. He’s sitting behind the equipment shed once again, throwing away the greens in his lunch and eating the sandwich left behind. He doesn’t notice Prompto as he slowly shuffles towards him, fingers twisting and picking at each other in front of his chest. He’s nervous, worried that without the need of conversation, he won’t know what to say, because unlike in the bathroom or back in the hallway all those months ago, they don’t need to talk. There is no commonality pushing them to say anything to each other.

With a deep breath, he looks around himself, trying to find anything to bring up in a conversation with the one person he’d been wanting to be close to for over a year now. He pats his pocket, hitting the red canon camera inside. Pulling it out, he's relieved. There's a sort of familiarity to it, that calms him down. Reminds him that no matter what changes will happen now, he’ll always have the idea of his prince saved inside. With a deep breath, he stuffs the camera back into his pocket. Glancing back toward the prince, he’s met with those crystalline eyes, dark and mesmerizing. 

He stutters when he begins, “h-hey! What are you doing?”

Noctis looks down to the box in his lap, before meeting Prompto’s eyes again, “having lunch.”

His answer is short, but the blond doesn't find it dismissive, and he presses on, moving closer to the prince. There’s a yellow bar across the walkway insinuating the area is off limits. He assumes Noctis doesn't care, with how often he's there during lunch hours. He stops just in front of it, placing his hands on top to steady himself. Making conversation with the prince was a lot easier than he thought it would be.

“You don’t like vegetables?” He asks, looking to the scattered peas and peppers in the grass. 

Noctis looks away, cheeks dusting red, “I hate them. But I always get them in my lunch anyway.” 

Prompto laughs a little, thinking that someone like Noctis, with his high status and royal lifestyle, could be bothered by something so mundane. He decides that the prince is welcoming, he doesn't seem like he wants to brush Prompto off, so the blond takes it as a sign to move closer, aiming to sit next to the prince.

He puts his hands on the bar, intending to step over it, “I don't really like vegetables eith-”

He’s landing face first in the dirt before he can finish his sentence. His glasses tip up his face when he hits the ground, and he thinks one of the arms might have broken with the way it’s currently pressed into the ground. Prompto is mortified, can feel his cheeks filling with heat (or maybe he was really bleeding this time). There is dust in his mouth and there is some in his eyes, and he might be crying just a little bit.

When he tries to pull himself up, he’s met with a soft voice, tinged with worry. “Here, take my hand.”

Lifting his head, he see’s Noctis with his hand, palm up and waiting for Prompto to take it. He hadn’t heard the raven move, and he’s surprised to see only concern in the prince's eyes. There is only a little hesitation before Prompto reaches forward, his hand meeting the princes. He’s embarrassed when his palm is sweatier than the others- just getting down all those stairs to see the prince in the first place having tired him out. Noctis pulls, and Prompto pushes onto his knees to help him.

“You’re heavy,” Noctis says, letting out a puff of breath when Prompto is up and on his feet again. The school bell chimes, singing out it’s call before repeating. Noctis looks up at it, and then rushes back over to gather his lunch back into the small cloth he had brought it in. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Noctis runs off before Prompto can get another word in, but even if he had tried, he was too busy admiring the genuine, real, and toothy smile the prince had flashed at him before running away.

 

After that encounter, he doesn’t speak to the prince again that year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be out at the very latest on the 20th, and then the next update will be a little later, I'll be gone for a week and unable to write.  
> I hope you enjoyed! See everyone soon :)
> 
> Also: EPISODE PROMPTO WHY WAS HE CRYING WHO WAS HE AIMING AT WILL I LAST UNTIL JUNE  
> I THINK NOTTT.


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolute garbage and I shouldn’t ever make promises. If anyone has seen the video for Prom called Worthless, you can suffer with me because that thing messed me up good, enough to put a part of it in this fic.
> 
> Things got really rough, but I’m here now, and I’m sorry.  
> I’m listening to the episode Prompto soundtrack and it’s refreshing and nice to my soul. This chapter hasn’t been edited, I wanted to get it out as soon as I could, but an edited version will be up in the next few days. Let me know if I missed anything, or if there are any outstanding mistakes that ruin the story all together.

**iii.**

 

 

  
  
After Prompto had succeeded  in making a fool of himself in front of the prince, he decided to take a break. While he didn’t think the prince had meant any harm in the comment, it still made him nervous. What if after becoming the Prince's friend, he embarrassed the raven? What if he messed up and the prince didn’t want him to be around anymore? What if, again, he loses someone important to him? After working so hard to get closer to Noctis, he’s not sure he could take rejection from him.

The bell had rung, and the students had moved on and gone home, but Prompto still sat in his seat, staring out the window at the few students left behind. He watches them, thinks that maybe they’re just like him too. Maybe they know what abandonment feels like, know how scary it is to be alone. There is one girl, leaning against the gate of the school staring down at a small phone in her hand. Prompto recognizes her to be one of the more louder girls in his class, always surrounded by friends, laughing and smiling. Now, her smile is gone, her eyes downcast and lips pressed in a tight line. Prompto watches, sees her cross her arms and squeeze the phone in her hand. He’s happy, he realizes, that someone like her could feel just like he did. It doesn’t last for long, a car pulling up to the side of the curb and her face breaks into a familiar stretch. And just like that, she’s the happy girl again, the one he sees everyday in class.

He sinks in his seat, watching the car drive away. If he can’t be as happy as she is, than what right does he have to be next to the prince? If he didn’t look as good as the raven, why did he deserve to stand next to him? As he is now, he is nothing. He’s not beautiful, not smart, not funny, not courageous, and he’s not thin. The farther he sank into his chair, the worse he feels. Maybe, Prompto hopes, if he sinks far enough in his chair he’ll disappear into it. He wishes it was that easy. Something compels him to look out the window again, and this time it’s because of the now familiar black car pulled up to the front of the school. The prince is walking towards it, his head down and hands in his pockets.

Almost as if the raven senses it his eyes flick up to the side, and Prompto thinks their eyes meet. But he’s getting into the car before he can register the emotions the prince had given him. The blond sighs again, pushing a hand up his face and under his glasses to rub his eyes. He nudges the wrist band that sits there, sees the black lines hidden underneath.

Prompto doesn't like himself, he realizes. And if he didn’t like himself, how could he hope that anyone else would either? He sinks as far down into the seat as he can, the tears welling up and falling before he can stop them.

He feels like nothing. He’s feels _worthless_ , and when he finally goes home to the empty house, (with no parents and no dog) he starts to think it’s true.

 

* * *

 

The next morning he wakes up during the third round of his alarm. He sets it to snooze and falls right back to sleep. When he wakes up again, it’s noon and he’s already missed most of his school day. He decides not to go at all.

It’s a while before he pulls himself out of bed. The hardwood is cold on his feet where he sits, and his head feels heavy buried in his hands. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but when he finally makes it to his feet he stumbles. He grabs for the drawer handle to steady himself, but only manages to tug it open as he falls forward. Prompto yelps as his knee hits against it, and looks down on instinct to see the damage. The green envelope Lunafreya had sent him catches his eye where it’s tucked away inside the drawer. It takes him a moment but he pulls it out and opens it, his pain forgotten. It still smells of sylleblossoms, the scent calming to the blond.

The words on the page are scattered in his mind, and he can’t quite focus on what they’re saying. He tosses the letter on top of his desk with a sigh and curls back up in bed, his self loathing a crushing weight. He cries himself to sleep that night.

 

A few days pass before Prompto finds it in him to make his way back to the school. He’d stayed in bed for the majority of the time, only leaving to eat and take washroom breaks. He’s been trapped in the darkness of his own mind, helplessly tangled in the cruel words and self deprecating thoughts. Been eventually, he thought about all the school he was missing, and just how quickly overdue assignments started building up. With a lot of self encouragement, he’d forced himself through a small breakfast before starting his trek to school. Through the day, he’d stayed quiet and reserved, only taking time to come up with the excuse of a false sickness to his teacher to explain his absence.

 

On his fifth day back to school, he’s in the library during his lunch, catching up on a few lessons he’s missed during his time away. It’s quiet, and he’s relaxed and soaking up information like an academic sponge. His attention wavers when a sudden crash startles him from the words on the page. The noise persists, and soon enough the blond is irritated enough to hunt for the person disrupting his knowledge-soaking.

Hidden behind a rather large shelf and away from the lady at the reception desk, he sees a two boys. Prompto doesn’t recognize them, so he assumes they’re in a higher grade than himself. They’re in the corner, staring at something on the floor in front of them. They each give whatever it is a kick, laughing at the form in front of them. When realization hits, he freezes. There is a first year, crumbled to the ground between them, crying helplessly as the older boys rain kicks from above.

His first thought is to jump in, to try and help the poor boy, but his feet won’t move and his heart beats to loud and he can barely see. He’s panicking. There is a person in need and he isn’t doing anything- _why isn’t he doing anything?_

From the other side of the shelf, Noctis shoots forward, and in a few short movements, one of the boys is tossed to the side, the other pushed down on the floor farther away from them. He bends down towards the boy on the ground, helping him to his feet. Prompto is quiet as the two seniors take their leave, backing down once they see who their opponent is- _the crown prince of Lucis, Noctis Caelum._

Prompto watches in envy, watches the raven tend to the boy and awkwardly pat his shoulder as the latter curls into himself and sobs into his knees. An overwhelming sensation of envy rises around him, because Prompto wants to be like that, courageous, strong, kind. There was no hesitation in the way Noctis moved, stepping into the fight regardless of the dangers it held. He thinks about himself, about how different he is from the prince.

It’s then that he realizes that he’s been wrong- even if he didn’t like himself, that was no reason to give up. The only thing he could do now was to find the person he wanted to be. Try to become the characteristics he admired so much in the raven haired boy ahead of him. He thinks back to Lunafreyas letter, realizes there is someone relying on him, someone who’d acknowledged him and made him feel important.

He wouldn’t let his fear of failure and self image stop him. Things had to change, he has to change. Sitting around and thinking about what he wishes he could be won’t help him get there. So he stands up straight, squares his shoulders turns away from the scene in front of him. Nothing would change unless he was willing the make the change himself, and he was ready to try.

 

*

Over the next few months, Prompto takes his self improvement by storm. He’s made an effort to become friendlier with the people in his class, and while he hasn’t truly made any friends, he has people to laugh along with and share his opinions with when his classmates prompted him too. He’s changed his meal plan; veggies and fruits in exchange for the fast food and snacks. He’s taken to jogging every morning, not far, but enough that he feels a physical change in his attitude when he reaches school in the morning. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the way he acts around the prince- meaning he doesn’t see him at all. The times he does, he’s quick to turn and head the other way, or put his head down and avoid eye contact. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t talk to him before he was ready, before he was worthy of the raven.

It was early on a Monday morning when he sees the prince. Prompto had a usual jogging route, and after a few months of constant exercise he was starting to see a physical change in the way he looked. He’d decided to branch out from his normal direction, try and run farther than his usual track. Instead of running along the bridge just across from his favourite burger joint, he turns right, heading up the steep incline of the street and towards the grocery store. He figures that while he’s out, and has the energy, he might as well get some grocery shopping in. He’s happier, Prompto finds. The path takes him up a winding trail, separated by steel barriers as the ground turned to inclines layered on top of each other.

As he reaches the top, he slows his jog, and pulls his camera from the zipped up pocket in his sweater. The store is a few paces beside him, and he thinks he can fit a quick photo session in before he’s running behind schedule. The sun is still in its early morning cycle, illuminating  the wall that kept Insomnia safe from the dangers that lurked behind. It casts an orange glare on the city, tall buildings with opaque windows reflecting the sunlight. It’s almost ethereal, the glow giving off the illusion of fire. He angles the camera closer to the bottom of the buildings, catching his normal bridge in the shot. It’s calming, the sound of the shutter after each picture. He goes through the motions, changing his stance and position on the street, leaning far over the rail that seperated the sidewalk from the small cliff it sat upon. Soon he stands gazing, watching the sun light filter in through the lense of his camera.

“Be careful not to lean too far,” an accented voice says from behind him.

Prompto jumps, enraptured by the view that he doesn’t hear the pair of footsteps approach him and the swish of an automatic door. Behind him, a familiar sandy blond haired boy with glasses stands, arms full of grocery bags. Behind him, the prince.

Prompto stutters out a laugh, sun-trance broken by the pair that stood behind him. “Y-yeah! Thanks! I don’t want to fall!” Silently, he berates himself with his awkward wording, and fails to notice the small smile stretching across Noctis’ face.

The other boy pushes his glasses up his nose, watching Prompto with curious eyes. “And a long fall it would be. Next time keep that in mind?”

Prompto nods quickly, and then waves. “Yes! Of Course! Not falling is the goal! Good old railings, am I right?” He points finger guns at the two as he backs away towards the store entrance. “Not falling is the aim!”

Noctis’ hand slides up to cover his mouth, and _again,_ Prompto misses the crinkle of his eyes as he laughs. Quietly, The older man turns and heads towards a black car idling on the curb.

“Come along then, Noct,” he says.

The princes eye’s stay trained on the blonde as the latter briskly disappears into the store, heart pounding and face red.

And of course, Prompto misses the smile that Noctis shows as his hand lowers. Soley directed at the former.

 

* * *

 

Months pass, and Prompto develops a certain talent for avoiding the prince. It’s easy, as the blond doesn’t see him as often anyway. And when their paths do cross, he’s quick to look down or speed the other way. He keeps up his meal and exercise plan, finding each day easier and easier. Soon enough, he’s reached the end of his second year of middle school, and is well on his way through his last and final one.

He sits at his desk, cutting construction paper into various shapes that he passes to the girl beside him when he’s finished. It’s approaching the third years graduation, and Prompto’s class was in charge of the banner and decorations for the ceremony. The blond enjoyed the task, it was easy and quick, and kept him occupied. The only distraction was the raven haired boy sitting directly across from him cutting the same shapes and designs as Prompto. Their classes had mixed together to perform the task, and currently the two and Noctis’ classmate were at this station. They don’t talk much, only to exchange questions regarding their arts and crafts. Prompto is content with this, the prince's company enough for him.

“We need more stars in blue,” Noctis mumbles, and his classmate rises in search for some more paper. They continue in silence, and then, “how many red ones do you have?”

Prompto jumps just slightly in his seat, scissors almost cutting straight through the snow flake he was cutting. “I haven’t gotten to the red yet.”

Noctis nods before glancing towards Prompto’s pile. His eyes catch on the snowflake in the blonds hands, and stay there.

Prompto stares back at him, the blue of his eyes standing out against the paleness of his skin. He looks curious, and Prompto sets his scissors down and asks, “are you alright?”

Noctis seems to realize his dazed state, and his eyes snap back towards Prompto's. The way he’s blushing, Prompto would think that he’d been caught looking at something he shouldn’t have, not the paper snowflake in his hand. After a moment, the prince looks away, before quietly asking, “How did you make that?”

Prompto is quiet for a moment, studying the prince and the honest curiosity on his face. “You mean the snow flake?” When he receives a nod, he can’t stop the affectionate smile from spreading across his face. “Here, I’ll show you.” He stands and sits in the seat beside the prince, with less than the amount of nervousness he’s used too. He reaches for the paper in front on the prince, a black piece, and beings folding. After the first steps are out of the way, he gives the paper to Noctis to cut, and draw on with a white marker.

“This is so cool,” Noctis says, staring in wonder at the finished snowflake.

Prompto scratches his head and laughs, “I have to make four more, but you can make them instead, if you’d like.”

He’s surprised by the enthusiasm Noctis shows when he nods his head the affirmative. Another smile spreads across his lips as he stares at the prince beside him. He’s not worried about what other people would think, because he knows the way he gazes at the prince is far from friendly, but in that moment, it’s just the two of them, the sound of rustling paper, and the way Noctis looks at Prompto with the same expression painted across his sharp features.

When their classmate returns with the blue construction paper, neither notice. It’s not until she's sitting down, and moving the blue over top of the black paper that they spring apart, Prompto settling himself in to continue his own work.

He doesn’t change seats though, stays tucked in close to the prince with their thighs only an inch apart. He doesn’t stop smiling, and after a quick glance, he sees, neither does the prince.

  


* * *

 

At Prompto’s graduation ceremony, he says goodbye to the person he was during middle school. He throws his insecurities away with the tasseled hat he throws in the air with the rest of his class. He doesn’t catch the cap when it falls back down, but his eyes stay glued to the black snowflake attached to the graduates congratulatory banner his class had worked so hard to create. Amongst the cheers and the laughs and hugs his classmates share with one another, his eyes find Noctis’ in the crowd.

The raven smiles at him, honest and kind. Prompto smiles back, resolution set.

 

* * *

 

It’s spring, and the start of Prompto’s first year in highschool. Everything is different, and yet everything is the same. When he makes it to the school gates and walks inside, he can’t help but smile. There is determination in the way he walks, and the confident strides he takes. He’s ready for a brand new life. When he sees a familiar head of black walking in front of him, he breaks into a jog.

When he nears Noctis he gives him a pat on the back, catching the Prince’s attention, “Hey there, Prince Noctis!”

Noctis looks at him in bewilderment. Any interaction between the two had always been incidental, never once had they initiated a conversation on purpose.

Despite the prince’s confusion, Prompto carries on, “I’m Prompto! Nice to meet you!”

Noctis blinks, “Don’t I know you already?”

Prompto feels a blush rise to his cheeks, but all he does is laugh instead. They fall into step together and Noctis shakes his head, smiling at Prompto’s silly attempt at kick starting their friendship. Carefully, he pats Prompto on the back, laughing slightly when Prompto turns back to laugh with him.

 

After that, he spends the rest of his school years, best friends with his prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I DID IT I FINISHED I’M GOING TO FAINT ITS BEEN LIKE SEVEN MONTHS. I really hope it was worth the wait.  
> I don’t have any other excuses, but I am sorry. I’ve gotten such wonderful comments on this story, and they all really have helped me.  
> I really hope you enjoy this update. I am not going to say when the next one will be out, or when I am aiming for it to be, but I’m working on it now.  
> Thank you for your patience. It means the world to know that people still read this.  
> As always you can find me on my tumblr if you would like to pop in and say hello! I would really appreciate it :)


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been years holy moly. This story is going to actually start getting interested now I promise. Like, more dialogue and more of prompto and gay times. Thank you for your patience my friends.  
> I don’t really have much to say, there’s more in the end note  
> Thank you for taking your time to read this! I am a terrible person who never updates anything!  
> It was also this fics one year last saturday! I feel really proud because I'm still going oh man. I really hope I can do better. and have this done before the year is up loOOOL

**iv.**

 

Prompto is sitting next to the prince in class one day, it’s lunch time and the boys are the only two left in the room. The others had slowly filtered out, heading outside to spend their break while Prompto sat in his chair, tilted back and staring out the window. It’s only been a few weeks into their friendship, but the blond is surprised with just how easy it feels. While Noctis isn’t the most chatty, he’s a good listener, and Prompto has a lot to say. And from the day that Prompto had approached him all those days ago, it’d been easy conversation. Prompto wonders back to that time behind the shed, when they’d lacked words and commonality between the two. The silence then was awkward, drawn out and unwanted, but now it’s welcomed and comfortable. 

There is a paper towel sitting on the desk between them. While Noctis eats his fancy boxed lunch, he picks out the carrots and beans and sets them there for Prompto to eat. When another green bean is flicked onto the paper, Prompto lets out a chuckle. “Feels like you’re just using me to get rid of all your greens, man.”

Noctis’ starry eyes meet his, “maybe I am.” There is mischief in the way he says it, mirth dancing in his gaze.

Prompto fake gasps, and it turns into a laugh when he flicks the green bean back at the prince. It hits him square in the forehead, the princes expression startled. The blond is holding a hand in front of his mouth, ineffectively holding in his giggles. 

His giggling turns into full blown laughter when the prince stares at him with a look of betrayal on his face, “what the hell?”

Prompto is wiping a tear away from his face when a baby carrot is launched into his cheek. This time, It’s Noctis who is laughing at the startled look on the others face. Prompto’s lips curl into a smile, the sound of the princes laugh is still new to him, and despite the few weeks of friendship he’s only heard the prince laugh a handful of times. But each time, it’s made Prompto happy in ways he couldn’t explain. The princes laugh was quiet, almost nervous, and it always seemed like it was startled out of him. 

Soon after, their small food fight’s changed into Noctis throwing the carrots, and Prompto attempting to catch them in his mouth. With each one caught, Prompto lets out a small ‘whoop’ noise, and Noctis’ normal polite smile is stretched into a real one.

“Excuse me?” A girl says. She’s standing just inside the doorway, eyes locked on Noctis and Prompto’s silly game. When both boys turn their attention towards them she continues, “I was wondering if I could talk to you outside?” 

Again, Prompto hasn't been close with the prince for that long. But over the days that he has been, he's grown use to girls asking to see him, girls bringing him somewhere secluded for private conversations. Of course, Prompto follows them at a distance, but he hears them all. Each girl confessing to the prince for various reasons, because he’s cool, he’s rich, he seems kind. Each one make Prompto even more confused. They didn't even know the prince. They knew nothing but the outside appearance he presented for everyone else. They knew about his name, and all the pomp and circumstance that came with it. But they didn't know that he hated veggies, he was a little shy, and he didn't quite take compliments as well as a prince should have. He was lazy, an incredibly heavy sleeper, and awkward.

But who was he to talk? He’d spent years dreaming about what it would be like to be where he was now, based on the limited knowledge these girls had now. The thought quelled his jealousy (although Prompto didn't think he was ready to call it  _ jealousy _ just yet).

Noctis doesn't move, and for a moment, everything is still. Prompto looks between the two, finding both of their eyes locked on him. “O-oh!” He stutters, “sorry, I’ll just be outside.” Standing quickly, he claps Noctis on the back, “good luck, buddy.”

Prompto makes it halfway across the room before Noctis says, “she was talking to you.”

He freezes, looking down at the girl only a few feet in front of him. She's staring at the ground, her face red. Noctis is chuckling behind him. “O-oh!” Prompto stutters again, eyes jumping back to Noctis’ behind him. “M-me?

The girl nods, but doesn't make eye contact. He can tell she's nervous, can tell this is going just as badly as any confession towards him would ever go. Again, a beat of silence passes before Prompto can think of anything to say. He's never been called out like this before. He’d spent his entire school life (minus two weeks) invisible to the general population, and even if he'd had a crush on anyone (he never had, he thinks) he’d never be the one to approach them first. This is new territory, and while he may be striving for a new image and a new attitude, he wasn't looking for  _ this. _

Eventually he says, “there's a spot by the shed that’s usually empty.”

She nods again, and turns on her heel. Quickly she moves down the hall, and Prompto moves to follow her. Spinning on his foot, he gives Noctis (who is totally hiding laughter behind his hand) a shrug of his shoulder before he’s out the door. The walk down to the shed isn't long, but Prompto follows behind the girl at a slower pace. She's still nervous, her shoulders drawn in to her chest and her hands dangling clasped together in front of her. Prompto almost feels bad, but then again, he’s a little giddy. She's quite pretty, and a full head shorter than he is. Her hair is brown, cut short to end just below her chin. She's thin, but Prompto can tell from her legs that she's active. If he knew anything about her, he might even consider going on runs with the girl. 

Soon, they're at their destination, and she's standing just a metre away. His hands are in his pockets, and he doesn't quite know what to do. He thinks about Noctis, wonders if the prince usually feels as awkward as Prompto does in this moment. Then he thinks about Noctis being confessed to, thinks about how he usually reacts, thinks about his formal decline:  _ I’m sorry, but I can't accept. I appreciate you telling me, it was very brave. _ Prompto doesn't know if he’ll be able to let this girl down that gently.

Suddenly the girl takes a deep breath, “my name is Ailee Tamra, and for the last two weeks, I have been watching you!” She doesn't meet his eyes, and her hands grip the material of her sweater tightly, pulling and tugging on it as a distraction. “You are very kind, and your relationship with the prince is rare. I really like you!”

Prompto’s absolutely shocked, so much so that he almost doesn't hear the next part of her confession, “please, will you go out with me?”

Again, silence. Prompto is speechless, his mouth opening and closing, attempting to say the words he’s unable to able to find. She's bowed forward, waiting for his answer to rise, but he is lost for words. He wasn't particularly moved by most of her speech, but to hear that someone had been pinning for him for as long as she had been, was shocking to the blond. In his mind, he was still invisibly irrelevant, and if anything important- just a new accessory to the prince.

The only words he can think of to say, is, “thank you.” Because that is the truth.

She looks up at him confused, and it's his turn to bow down to her.

“Thank you for telling me about your feelings, but I can't return them. I’d be dishonest of me, to pretend that I could. But no one has ever said anything like that to me before, so thank you, and I'm sorry.”

She blinks at him, and he's terrified he’d hurt her feelings. When he stands back up to his full height, it's to see her smiling. “Thank you for the honesty.”

And with that, she turns and races around the corner. Prompto is shocked, and can only stand there, staring at the ground. 

He's still shocked, when Noctis comes around the corner and asks, “you alright?”

The blond nods, still staring off at where Ailee had been moments before. Noctis throws an arm around his shoulder and slowly guides him back towards the classroom. They walk silently, Prompto still wrapped in his mind, and Noctis not knowing how to start the conversation.

“What did you say?” Noctis finally asks.

Prompto looks to Noctis, and is suddenly worried that the prince will judge him for the response he’d given the girl. They hadn’t had a serious conversation yet, at least, nothing too heavy. And suddenly Prompto felt like his answer mattered more than ever. Like this would change the outcome of their relationship for good. But it wasn’t like he could come right out and say the truth- not that he could say the truth to himself either- but he wanted to be honest.

“I said no. Honestly,” Prompto breaks eye contact, staring down at the sidewalk, “I think there’s someone else I might be into.”

Noctis makes a small hum of acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything else. Prompto is thankful Noctis is as awkward as he is, but also for the silence he’s given to regain his bearings. He’s happy to have that over with, but he’s also happy that someone had said those things to him. He feels as if all his hard work had paid off. He may still not be getting as many confessions as the prince, but this first one would be a landmark for him. For the rest the walk back to their classroom, they’re silent.

“Who is it?” Noctis asks as they sit back in their desks. There’s only six minutes of lunch left, and they take their time to clean up the desk from there small food fight. There are still a few uneaten carrots, so the raven busies himself with putting those away. 

Prompto feels his cheeks heat up, and he only falters for a second before he’s smiling at the prince, “It’s a secret!”

Noctis rolls his eyes and shakes his head, tossing the last carrot at Prompto’s head. The blond squeaks, instantly lifting his hands to hide from any other misguided vegetables. But Noctis just laughs, and it’s enough to rock them back into their normal routine.

“You looked pretty excited, though.” Noctis says through a laugh.

“Well, yeah. That’s never happened to me before.”

Noctis seems taken aback, “It hasn’t?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Uh, hello? Chubby, short, shy, awkward kid always hiding in corners? That was me, remember? Not many people found that really attractive, dude.”

He’d expected a laugh or for Noctis to brush it off, because really- it was the truth. Back then no one wanted him. But he’d changed, and he was better now. He knew everyone felt this way. He wasn’t a stranger to hearing his name and the word chubby in the same sentence, but only recently had he heard it with the word  _ attractive. _

Noctis reaches forward, startling the blond. His hand rests on his shoulder, and the way he’s looking at him has Prompto’s cheeks instantly colouring. “I’ve never thought of you as any less than someone else. Not now, not before. You’re cool dude. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Prompto is speechless, wanting to say something back but not finding the words to do so. Eventually Noctis just shrugs again. “It’s just something you should know.”

The prince turns back towards his things just as the bell goes off, and students start piling into the classroom for the rest of their day. Noctis sits back down and pulls out his notes, acting as if nothing had changed. Prompto turns and sits in his own desk, a small smile spreading across his lips.

And when he looks over to the raven behind him, he knows that he feels the way the prince looks.

_ Happy. _

 

 

When the class is left to independent study, Noctis and Prompto turn their desks towards each other. They’re both studying, until Prompto asks, “Why don’t you ever say yes?”

Noctis looks up from the word problems on his paper, and regards Prompto with a curious stare, “where’d that come from?”

Prompto blushes, “Well! I know my reasons for saying no, but what about you? You have these girls constantly throwing themselves at you, dude. There's no way you didn’t like at least one of them.”

Noctis looks back down to his paper, “There’s a girl I guess. She’s just not here.”

Prompto feels something constrict in his chest, feels something crack. He can see it the moment Noctis notices it too. The prince glances up, most likely due to Prompto’s lack of response. Noctis’ eyes widen slightly, and it’s the concern Prompto can see flash through them that kicks him back into gear.

“A-and who’s this?”

Noctis looks at him a moment, eyes searching. Eventually, he sighs and says, “It’s not important.”

They don’t talk about it again until a few years later.

* * *

After school a few months later, Noctis has finally gotten permission to hang out with Prompto after school, outside the school grounds, and his bodyguards eyesight. Prompto still hasn’t met the man, but Noctis had told him plenty stories already about him. He had two people looking after him for most of his childhood, a tall, business like man named Ignis, who took the role of his adviser. And Gladio, a huge hulking mass of a man who one could only (accurately) assume was his bodyguard.

For the first time, the two were going to the arcade.

Prompto had been over the moon when Noctis had texted him the news that morning, and he couldn’t help but notice that Noctis seemed to be in a pretty good mood as well. They were more giddy, quicker to laugh at things and joke around then usual. It made Prompto feel lucky that he was part of the reason the prince was feeling this way.

After a long day and a short bus ride, the two found themselves surrounded by noise and pixelated screens. Noctis had been overwhelmed at first glance, but eventually they settled on a racing game to kick things off. After Noctis had been absolutely pummeled by the blond, they decided to move onto another.

“What about that one?” Noctis points to a zombie shooter. One that Prompto is definitely good at. 

“Well,” Prompto says, crossing his hands behind his head, “as long as you’re okay with getting destroyed again.”

Noctis laughs, “I’ll take that challenge.”

“Trust me,” Prompto goads, “this’ll be over in a sec.”

“Don’t cry if you loose.”

And Prompto doesn’t, because he wins. But he doesn’t just win, he  _ annihilates  _ Noctis.

“Dude! Why the hell are you so good with a gun?” Noctis says, in a voice so frustrated and high pitched it almost makes Prompto black out from laughing so hard. “This is ridiculous!”

“I’m sorry!” Prompto laughs, wiping tears from his eyes, “but I did tell you it would only take a second.”

Noctis pushes him in the shoulder, laughing, “yeah yeah, big shot.”

Prompto catches his hand and laughs some more, knocking his other away when he tries to push him again. “What game now?”

Noctis -still with his hand in the blonds- looks back towards the end of the arcade, “What’s  _ Dance Dance Revolution?” _

Prompto’s jaw drops, “how can you not know DDR? It’s legendary.”

Noctis rolls his eyes, “not legendary enough if I’ve never heard of it.”

This time, Prompto rolls his eyes, tugging on the princes arm towards the machines. “It’s a dancing game, so if you’re alright with looking like a loser, this should be fun.”

“Bring it on,” Noct says, already stepping onto the pads. Prompto shakes his head and walks after him, smiling. 

“What song, then?” Prompto asks after they’ve inserted their tokens. The game flashes with the title, before taking them to another screen with a list of songs.

Noctis stares at the song list and hums, stepping on the back arrow to move down the list. Eventually, he stops on something called ‘ _ Numa Numa.’ _

“Really?” Prompto asks. A quick preview of the song plays, and he can see the humor in the ravens face as they listen to it.

“What? If we are going to look weird dancing we might as well go all out.” Noctis replies, a glint in his eye. Prompto just laughs in reply, and steps on the middle button to start the song.

After going through a few quick instructions, they’re well into the song. Noctis is doing well, but there’s a steady look of concentration on his face. Prompto doesn’t notice when his score starts to fall behind, Noctis’ movements too much of a distraction for him. There is teasing back and forth, and eventually Prompto finds himself in a comfortable rhythm. He’s back to beating Noctis’ score, but that doesn’t stop him from goading him any further. By the end of the song, They’re both out of breath and laughing. Prompto comes out victorious, but only by a slim margin. 

“Sorry, bud.” Prompto laughs, patting Noctis on the back as they step back from the machine. 

The prince huffs a laugh, meeting Prompto’s gaze as he leans forward  to rest his hands on his knees. “You warned me.”

“That I did,” Prompto laughs. In the next moment, before his mind can explain what a  _ terrible _ idea it was, his hand swings forward to land on Noctis’ ass. The motion only lasts a few seconds, but in the time that the prince looks back at him, face morphing into surprise lasts a lifetime.

Their eyes meet, and Prompto doesn’t think he could breathe even if he wanted too. He’s not sure if the other could see the sudden uneasiness and insecurity the blond is sure to have written across his face, but he smiles. Waves of relief wash over Prompto as Noctis laughs and pushes his shoulder. Awkwardly, Prompto laughs along with him. It takes a moment for his mind to register that  _ we are okay _ , but then he’s bouncing along next to the prince, heading out of the arcade.

  
  


After they leave the arcade, Noctis asks Prompto if he wants to come over for dinner. After the initial panic, (“My school uniform is  _ definitely _ not citadel material, and it’s not like I can just walk right in. Isn’t that against like,  _ every _ security protocol? I’m just a dude, I don’t know what to do in a fancy place like that. Not that I wouldn’t want to go! Going to the citadel has always been a dream of mine! Not in a creepy way though, I don’t mean like going to your house is a dream! I just like pictures! Like, taking them I mean!” Noctis is laughing at him, and Prompto feels his face get even more red, “Not that hanging out with you isn’t fun! It totally is! But, like, I don’t even know how to speak to royalty, dude.” Noctis raises his eyebrows at this, “no, no. You’re different. You go to highschool and snort when you laugh sometimes. You don’t count.” Noctis snorts in laughter abruptly when he hears this and Prompto’s heart  _ soars _ ) Noctis explains that when he started highschool, his father allowed him to move out of the citadel to stay at an apartment closer to the school.

“It’s nothing to big, but it’s just a block or two away.” He says, motioning down the street for the other to follow. 

Noctis’ apartment is on the top floor, but the apartment itself is only 6. They ride the elevator to the top, and Noctis has to push in a key before it would allow him to reach the top floor. When the doors open, it’s to the penthouse itself, and not a hallway like most other apartments. It’s not huge, and it’s surprisingly empty. The door opens into a living room, white walls and black leather couch. Noctis has a gaming system set up with a large tv on the wall, but other than that and a few dirty dishes, the place is normal. Noctis throws his bag onto the couch, and kicks his shoes into the corner by the door. Prompto follows more slowly, but eventually joins the prince on the couch where’d he’d flopped down with a sigh.

“It’s nice,” Prompto says, after a small silence.

Noctis cracks an eye open to look at the other, “thanks. I’m not the best at keeping things clean  though, sorry for the mess.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I’m not surprised. You are usually a mess, your house is a mess-”  
“Hey!” Noctis says, cutting him off with a shove. They laugh for a moment, before  Noctis stands to turn on the game system and grabbing two of the controllers. They play together for a while, and Noctis stays in the lead for most of it.

During one of the loading screens, Prompto pulls out his phone and opens the camera app. “Hey, Noctis?”

Noctis hums in acknowledgement, not moving his gaze from his own phone.

“So, I was thinking. As a prince and all, you probably have special rules and stuff for what you can be doing, like for your image and all.” Again, a hum. “Well, I was wondering if like, pictures were okay? Like, of you? And if I could post them online?” There is a small moment of silence, and it’s all Prompto needs to send his anxiety spiraling. “Not that I need too! I’m not trying to brag or anything, ‘cause you’re the prince and all. And I’m not trying to get attention. Like, I just like pictures and I like posting stuff but it’s totally cool if I can’t. Or even if you don’t want to so. I mean, like, yeah. Actually, don’t worry about it! It’s fine!.” Prompto laughs, face red and heart pounding. He probably sounded so obnoxious. He didn’t want the prince to think that he was only using him for who he was. He didn’t want him to think that he was just like all the others who would treat him that way.

Noctis doesn’t respond for a few moments, and Prompto starts to panic. He’s pale, palms sweating and eyes starting to tear up. When the prince keeps his silence, he whispers, “I really don’t want you to think that i’m using you or anything. I really, really, enjoy being your friend.”

Upon hearing his (embarrassingly) cracked voice, Noctis snaps to attention. He sits sideways on the couch, and reaches for Prompto’s hand. “Hey, dude, no. It’s fine.” 

Prompto can tell that he’s nervous, can see it in the way he awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck. Prompto can’t meet his eyes, embarrassed of having lost control of himself so easily. 

“You can take pictures, but I’m not suppose to put anything online without my adviser seeing it first.” Noctis explains, “and I would never think that of you. It didn’t even cross my mind until you said so.”

Prompto takes a deep breath and nods, “okay. Sorry about this.” His head is slightly hurting, and he’s suddenly feeling exhausted from the sudden rush of feelings.

Noctis shakes his head again, poking Prompto in the forehead, “don’t be. I like being your friend too.” 

Prompto blushes and looks up slightly. Still unable to meet the princes eyes. They land instead on the tv in front of them, where the game has fully loaded in. “H-hey,” he starts, wiping at the bottom of his eyes. “Games on.”

Noctis nods, but doesn’t turn away immediately. Eventually he does, and they fall into a slightly uncomfortable silence. As the game goes on, Prompto starts to calm down, the familiar press of buttons and distraction of wanting to beat the other relaxing him into the couch. It isn’t until a few rounds later, that Noctis brings it up again.

“Prompto,” He starts, watching as the screen loaded them into a new map. “Does that happen often?”

Prompto blinks in confusion, “What?”

“The panic attacks.”

Prompto freezes, eyes staring at nothing as the question sinks in.

Noctis picks right up on it, “I don’t meant to pry, and I won’t push you. I just want you to know that I understand, and I won’t ever judge you for having them. Honestly, I just want to know how I can help.”

Prompto is breathing slightly faster than before, but his heart is fluttering in all the right ways. After a few steadying breathes, he clears his throat. “What makes you think this isn’t the first time?”

“When we were at the arcade. I thought you might’ve been about to have one then.”

Prompto hums in acknowledgement. “They’re… new, I guess.” He sets his controller to the side, fiddling with his hands in his lap, “I’ve always been nervous, but it wasn’t until school started last year. They’ve never really been that big a deal for me.”

“Well,” Noctis starts, “if you ever need a chance to calm down, if things feel like they’re getting too much, just let me know. I want to help in anyway I can.” He lifts his hand and rests it lightly on Prompto’s back, giving him a soft pat.

Prompto nods, still unable to meet the princes eyes, “Thanks, Noctis. But honestly, it’s a little exhausting talking about all this now, let’s just save it for another time, alright?”

Noctis nods and turns his attention back to the game, and again they fall into a comfortable silence. After the initial panic starts to ebb away, Prompto falls back farther into the couch, leaning slightly into the others side. Their conversation is muted, and the air around them is hushed. Prompto is comfortable with where he is, pressed into Noctis’ side. Soon enough is comes time for dinner, and they move into the kitchen.

They argue about what to eat, Noctis wanting to throw in a oven pizza, and Prompto wanting something just a little healthier. Eventually they settle on the pizza, but Prompto convinces him to make a small garden salad on the side. 

When they’re sat back in front of the tv, this time with some mindless comedy on, Noctis says, “Hey Prom, can you do me a favor?”

Prompto smiles at the name, “yeah?” He takes a bit of his pizza, shifting his eyes to look at the boy beside him.

“Call me Noct.”

Prompto blinks, before a large smile spreads across his lips. He settles back into the couch, feeling Noctis subtly shift to lean closer into his side. He smile widens, and his heart swells in his chest. “Sure, Noct.”

They end up falling asleep on the couch, curled into each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending YeEEEET OMG I AM REAL PROUD OF THIS YES  
> So sorry for the delay! College is wild and work is wild and I only have time on the weekend to really relax so I spend a lot of that time hanging out with my family and shit. Writing is really a second priority for me right now, which kinda sucks because I love it. But health is also a big thing and I can’t worry about this as well as my life soooo  
> Thank you for your patience with this chapter. I think monthly updates are going to start being a thing, because I feel like that's something as of right now I can keep up with. ALthough, no promises because we all know I am ass with those.  
> Okay okay okay take care everyone thank you so much for reading!  
> hit me up on tumblr aralliyahomra and we can be friends!!


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